Precious friend of mine
Decades of slow growth, patience
Leaves of crimson lace.
I often sought peace
Refuge amidst moss, ferns
Waterfalls now tears.
Always there for me
Waiting, ready, enfolding
Now torn asunder.
To be more “correct”?
That is lost in translation
Nature needs no tongue.
Anonymous
All images are before the renovation of the Japanese Garden. Photos by Beatrice Angela Jacobs
